You Fixed Me
by TheDuchessofFiction
Summary: "Killian accidentally hurting Emma with his Hook and then refusing to put it on again even though the fake hand is not much help with everyday things, so Emma talks to him.." Written before 3x11 for montana-rosalie for CSSS.


**You Fixed Me**

**Fulfilling this prompt from Montana-rosalie for the fifth day of Christmas 3 "Killian accidentally hurting Emma with his Hook and then refusing to put it on again even though the fake hand is not much help with everyday things, so Emma talk to him." Thing to note, I wrote this before THE EPISODE so everything is fine and Rumple is alive. -K**

"It's seriously fine Killian!" Emma yelled from the bathroom, holding the towel to the thin, slightly oozing wound that briefly graced her sternum.

All she heard in response was more swearing and a crash.

God.

He hadn't meant to do it. Really. And it didn't even hurt. She removed the towel and checked out the cut in the glass. It was barely a scratch.

Still the Savoir spread some Neosporin on the wound and stuck a Band-Aid on it. And the bedroom was oddly silent outside.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the door, finding Killian hunched over on the bed, shirtless, his hook held in one hand. The blue pierced metal in loathing, and the light of the moon from behind the curtain giving the gold and bronze metal an odd, other-worldly glow.

"I won't hurt you again, Emma." He said quietly, looking at her over his sharp nose, with regret. He released each finger one by one, the last raising up and the hook falling out of his hand with a clunk, hitting the hardwood floor.

"Killian, it's just a scratch. I'm fine. So, just put the hook back on and…" Emma pleaded, walking over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Angrily, crystal shining in his azure orbs, he pushed her hand away and stood up, rocking back and forth on his feet.

"NO!" He hoarsely yelled, pressing his hand to his eyes to fiercely wipe away the tears. She hadn't seen him cry twice in the time she had known him, and each he had fought it so hard that when he finally gave in, she was sure he was so close to the edge, all he would have to do is just. "I can't Emma. I don't deserve you. Yet, for some strange reason, you want me. But, I can at least give you a man with one hand, rather than a murderer with his weapon as his replacement."

And he reached over to the bedside table and yanked open the drawer, pulling out the prothestic that Emma _knew _he hated. Still, he snapped it onto the end of the brace with the determined line of his mouth, and the stones of his eyes, before lying down on the side of the bed.

It was non-negociable. At this point anyways.

Emma lay down next to him, contouring her body to fix into his.

"I love you." She whispered, the words still trying to catch in her throat after all this time. "With or without the hook."

He didn't respond, either because the poor Captain had fallen asleep. Or he was too stubbornly noble.

The pirate wasn't accustomed to the hand. It started off as small things. First it was the razor, cutting him right cheek to oppose the scar on his right.

Then it was the coffee mug at Granny's soaking the new jeans Emma had bought him with the piping hot brew.

Finally, it was in the middle to tracking down some damn thief in the woods, the Sheriff and her two deputies eventually finding one Will Scarlett, with his hands raised in a clearing.

"You are now under arrest." She said, keeping her gun trained on the smirking criminal, as the two other men drew there's. "Anything you say can and will be used against you."

She gave David a quick look who approached Will first, taking out the silver metal handcuffs that Emma didn't want to tell her father where they had been.

Even though Killian wore a wolfish smirk every time they made their appearance _outside _of the bedroom.

"Actually…" The man said, with one eyebrow raised, in an accent that reminded her of Graham's. And Killian's. And then he started to run.

The Knave of Hearts (as Killian had told her and her father quite breathlessly as they ran after him) was quick she gave him that. Twisting and turning, following no path at all, he had surprising stamina.

David was out of shape. For a prince, who had been used to riding horses and swinging swords, she shouldn't have been surprised that he wasn't a track athlete.

And Emma had been quite in shape as a bail bondsperson, yet that had gone to hell since she had come to Storybrooke as she wheezed beside David, her body bent in half with her hands on her knees.

However, Killian tried to draw his gun, fumbling with the holster as he reached for it, momentarily forgetting that he no longer had his hook. Using the prosthetic he attempted to draw it.

And watched it drop to the forest floor.

The sound of the escapee's laughter filled the woods as he ran away and the dejected Storybrooke police trio just sat there, Emma frowning at Hook.

They needed to talk.

"David, why don't you go home. Killian and I can take the night shift." Emma said, taking a sip of the obligatory hot chocolate sitting on her desk as she scanned some papers.

The organization of the town files, by some luck of the draw had fallen to her. Really she should have let Belle do it, with her love of print, yet the task that she had taken upon herself was a bit more unique.

On the top of the page, she scrawled "Mad Hatter" giving Jefferson a smile.

"Are you sure, Em?" David asked, already getting up to leave, taking his coat off the back of the chair and swinging it over his shoulder.

"Of course." She smiled back at her father. "Regina has Henry tonight, and Mom's waiting for you." David's smile was infectious, as he kissed the top of her head and patted Killian's on the back, before trudging out into the snow and towards the beat up old pick up.

He always acted like that whenever she called him 'Dad' or Mary-Margaret 'Mom.' Yet, Emma still felt a bit wistful knowing that one day, they would probably fulfill Mary-Margaret's wish in the cave and have another child.

Just as the Swans had done to her.

Still, there were more pressing matters at hand. Like the pirate looking over his dark lashes at her when he was supposed to be concentrating on the map of Storybrooke.

Taking one last sip of the warm drink, she got up from the desk and strided over to Killian, wrapping her arms around him from behind. Underneath the leather jacket (not the long one, a much shorter one she had bought him for Christmas), his muscles tensed not relating into her.

Frowning, she leaned into him closer and stood on her tip-toes.

"You know now that David's gone…" She left it open ended, with one raised eyebrow and a suggestive tone.

"No, Emma." The lawman said stubbornly, not meeting her eyes, though he had been looking at her for most of the day. "I can't hurt you."

"That's it!" Emma said, finally losing her temper in a rough tug on his shoulder to pull him so that he faced her. "You are not doing this, buddy." She pointed her finger in his face, standing on her toes to keep herself more level with his tall stature.

"Doing what, Emma?" He asked, trying to take an interest at his toes, yet her stabbing finger got in the way, nearly poking him in the nose, emphasizing each word.

"This, this, this…" Emma struggled for the words, before it coming to her. Even though it sounded like something out of a YA novel. "This broody and noble sacrificial stuff."

Hook raised his eyebrows at her, _as though he didn't know what she meant. _

So the Princess took it upon herself to snatch him in a none too lady like manner, one her mother would describe as 'bullish' but she would dub as 'effective' and abandoned the late shift, instead dragging the pirate back out into the evening.

Gold's shop wasn't really closed. Despite what the sigh said, the lights were still on inside and she could hear Belle's quiet laughter. However, the Sheriff was a little harsh in her persistent pounding at the door, still roughly holding Killian by his coat.

The pirate wore a less than thrilled expression, as he always seemed to have whenever the 'imp' was near. Except on Christmas. David and Killian always tried to get as drunk as possible **before **everyone came to dinner.

Finally did Rumple open the door, in a rather awkward state of undress with an expression that was one part mortified, one part enraged, yet it paled in comparison to the seething Sheriff.

"Can. I. Help. You. Miss. Swan?" He said, peeking behind the door, baring his teeth into a smile. Behind him, Belle peeked her head out. Her face turned red for but a moment, before she gave her friend a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Hand." She snarled, reeling Killian back into her as he tried to step away.

"Pardon?" The magister responded, for once genuinely confused.

"Hand. Killian's hand." Emma said, gesturing first to her pirate's prostheticed arm and then to the window, where Rumplestilskin had once kept the appendage as a trophy.

Belle looked as Rumple for a moment with an open mouth, shocked that he hadn't done the action sooner, before she set it in a very thin line and started to stomp back into the shop.

"Belle, Belle, where are you going? Belle?" Rumple said, whirling around and following his True Love back into the shop where a suspiciously loud noise came, leaving the door ajar.

The scene was a complete representation of the couple's whole relationship. It took a grand total of thirty seconds for Belle to find the box, and when Rumple protested all she only had to raise one carefully plucked eyebrow to shut him up.

Killian was pretty sure the term for it was 'whipped' as he had learned from the laughter from his former crew at a pub in the slightly rougher part of Storybrooke.

Yet, it had been used towards him. It felt good to use it against the Crocodile now.

The brunette librarian tossed the box to Emma, who caught it deftly in her left hand, still firmly holding onto him with her right and gave her friend a quick smile before shutting the door. Seconds later, what sounded like an argument erupted behind the door.

"Come on Killian." Emma muttered, already walking away from the shop nestled on the brief strip of retail on Main Street. Yet, she made a few different turns on the way back to the station.

At first, the pirate was certain they were headed home, though as they moved through back alleys and side streets the scent of salt and seaweed became more pungent.

The docks were quiet, as they always were, and the Jolly swayed in the waves, with but a single light shining from her.

A twinge of regret stabbed at the old sailor's heart to see the former 'Jewel of the Realm' in such abandonment. Yet, the rational part of his brain argued, that she wasn't abandoned, just no longer lived in.

Emma finally made it to his cabin, a faint smile on her lips as she pushed him down onto the bed and knelt in front of him.

Slowly, with the practiced movements of a lover, but with the tenderness of a mother, she slid his coat of his shoulder and unbuttoned his shirt, ridding him of the layers of armor to expose his metal extension.

And she took that off as well, letting it clank to the floor. She didn't stare at him, as she did on those rare occasions when it came off, like she was seeing the Lieutenant that had first set foot on a gangplank over three lifetimes ago.

The hand was in the same condition as it had been the day that he had lost it. Slightly less tan, and ringless. Cold, and not belonging anywhere but next to the corpse of his revenge.

Still, in her loving white fingers, it looked like it had always meant to be there, grasp in hers. An ache returned to him as he wished to flex those fingers around her and lace them between each of hers.

"Stump." She said, placing the thing almost in line with its ex as he thrust the thing out. She inhaled slowly and closed her eyes.

The surge of magic was more of a build rather than the roar that she heard whenever Regina or Gold used it. She had to use her emotions, think about why she was doing what she was doing, controlling her emotions rather than letting them use her.

She thought of the first time she met him, staring into the blue eyes under the corpses, and for the second she had seen him she should have known she was lost. Or rather found, since according to their trip, she had been lost from the start.

She pictured the understanding in his eyes every time he had thought she wasn't looking, before they went to Neverland.

In Neverland, he hadn't even bothered to hide.

When she had kissed him, she had felt for once in her life that she belonged. That she was worth it. That she meant something in the turmoil of life.

Then, she remembered the last night before the curse hit, them holding each in each other's arms, and finally him trying to kiss her goodbye before the curse came over them.

And it had stopped. They had stopped the curse in it's tracks. Because of…

The word 'true love' didn't come to her mind as she finally felt the magic surge out of her fingertips, arcing around the pieces of flesh, weaving them together again, as she peeked between her lashes.

"Emma." He said, looking down at his hand, awestruck.

"Killian." Was all she said as she just smiled at him, as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her bright smile.

"You fixed me." He said. "All of me."

As he had done for her.

**Review?**


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